Maiden's Dream
by Black Sword
Summary: A holy girl's childhood dream. Her unknown duty, her sister's wish. An unexpected rival and a love she denied feeling. What will she do? Where will she fly? To endless dreams? Or to an uncertain future?
1. Chapter 1

The fine-toothed comb hit yet _another _snag. Alair swore softly as she carefully worked out the tangle in the recently-washed hair. When her comb met no more resistance, she made another sound of displeasure before she moved on to the next section, the last in far too many. The soft, resigned sigh she heard in front of her greatly piqued her.

"If you had taken better care of your hair in the first place, we wouldn't be here!"

"Yes, sissy."

"You, of all people, should know how much work goes into keeping this rat's nest nice! It takes forever to comb out when you do take proper care of it, and it only takes longer when you are traipsing about Aridia and Frigidia!"

"Yes, sissy."

Alair glared into the mirror. Sahana gazed back serenely, those familiar indigo eyes distant and mysterious... yet there was a light in them Alair recognized from a shared childhood and the superior perspective of being just enough older to have babysat the younger woman.

"Are you just going to say that to everything I say?" Alair asked, exasperated.

"Yes, sissy."

"You...!" Alair gave Sahana a playful shake. "I should never have let you con me into this!"

"The Kay Eshyrs were ever weak to smiles from Laya's family," Sahana replied, a hint of smugness in her tone. "My sister told me a few stories about our mother's childhood. She enjoyed pointing out how your father would do anything my mother asked when she smiled at him."

"So you admit it. You did it on purpose."

"Yes, I, with all the cunning of a newborn infant, deliberately used my gap-toothed smile to draw you in, an innocent and defenseless toddler." Sahana's light-hearted response was followed by a sigh. "Alair, you didn't invite your sister-in-law just so she could stare at me, did you?"

Alair looked at Thea and pursed her lips at the familiar look she saw in those blue eyes. It was the same look Layans had worn a thousand years past when faced with their fearsome leader, a look that blended reverence with fear. She saw herself frown in the mirror as she absently ran Sahana's long golden hair through her fingers.

Sahana... wasn't really Sahana anymore. She was Laya. She was the solution to the quandary of what united their physical world with the universe beyond their perception. She was not the first Laya, but she was descended from the avatar of the Great Goddess that had brought them the answer and linked their world with the origin of creation. Her people had recognized that the connection existed in the women of the avatar's line, so when a Laya died, her closest female relative took her place.

Laya was venerated and honored amongst the Espers, and with her childhood friend's return, it was obvious that the Layans had fallen into a similar approach. In a roundabout way, the Layans now worshipped the Great Goddess and Laya's connection to her. The problem was that Laya was isolated from everyone else by her holy status. That might have suited Laya, but it did _not _suit Alair, _especially _when it involved Sahana.

"Thea, stop staring."

Eyes the size of saucers met her gaze. "But... Laya is in my room!"

"Chiefly because you're the only one on Dahlia with a giant mirror," Alair replied tartly as she gestured at the tripartite vanity. She looked back into the mirror. "As for you, I don't know when you stopped putting your hair into a braid, but back into one it goes."

Displeasure filled the golden-haired girl's face. Alair ignored the facial expression on the verge of a pout as she separated the hair into two equal sections at the back of Sahana's head. Alair held the right section with her right hand. It was only a matter of time before it started.

"I don't _want _my hair in a braid!"

Using her left hand, Alair picked up a half-inch of hair from the outside of the left section and crossed it over to the inside of the right section. "I've always put your hair in a braid."

"It's so... _restrained_. I like my hair being free!"

Holding the left section in her left hand, Alair used her right hand to pick up a half-inch of hair from the outer right section and crossed it over to the inside of the left section. "Whereas I like not having to pick out two thousand tangles for two feet of hair."

"One day, I'll grow my hair out to my knees, and no one will make me put it into a braid!"

Alair stopped herself from smiling as the golden-haired girl pouted in the mirror. It was something of a relief that the whole exchange was so classically Sahana. "Your army of hairdressers will instead spend half the day shampooing it and the other half picking out the knots in it as they try to figure out how to keep you from falling asleep on it."

"Why don't _you _put your hair in a braid? Let's see how much you like it."

Serenely crossing the sections of hair over, Alair said, "If I had my hair as long as you do, I would. I'd catch the morning dew in my hair, and when I met my special someone someday, he could untie my hair, tilt my head up, and kiss me at my most beautiful."

A wistful pair of sighs followed the romantic image Alair had conjured up. Her hands continued braiding as she glanced at Thea, specifically at the bump that was beginning to show. "It's possible you skipped a step or two."

Crimson flooded the green-haired girl's face. "I did not skip a step!"

"Don't pick on her, Alair."

"In public, you may be Laya, and I will honor you as is your due. But like this, you're-"

She had been on the verge of saying "Sahana," but the imperious glare in the mirror froze her. Alair abruptly remembered just how sacred that name was. For a heartbeat, her memory overrode her vision, and the one whose eyes commanded her to silence were not Sahana's, but Laya's. Vision and memory overlapped until it made her dizzy.

"...you're the little sister I scolded and played with, whose hair I brushed and washed and braided even as we shared our dreams," she concluded as she resumed braiding the long, golden hair.

Laya left as gratitude and affection shone in Sahana's eyes. "You dreamed of commanding Laya's bodyguard and being a great hero like Aina Le Cille," Sahana said with a smile.

"Which I still insist was more interesting than your dreams, little miss housewife. All you ever dreamed of was a loving husband and beautiful children in a happy family life."

"Just because you can't even boil water doesn't mean I'm a housewife," Sahana said pacifically.

Alair snorted. "A princess classic that can cook is a housewife."

Sahana mimicked her tone exactly. "Tomboy."

"Girly girl."

"Bully."

"Brat."

Giggles interrupted their exchange. They both turned to look at Thea. Her hand over her mouth, the shorter woman shook her head before she spoke. "You two... you really do act like sisters."

Alair harrumphed as she finished tying Sahana's braid and secured it. "I've been stuck with her almost since she was born."

"What she's trying to say is that she's been bossing me around since before I could even crawl."

"I wouldn't have expected that," Thea said.

As she tugged on the braid to loosen it a bit, Alair eyed Thea out of the corner of her eye. The Shusorani princess had her eyes slightly averted to avoid meeting Laya's eyes head on. It was something everyone did when confronted with those otherworldly eyes, but Alair had gotten used to them long ago. Still, it was an improvement over the worship that had been in her eyes before. "Expected or not, I'm glad she's here."

A shadow crossed Sahana's face. Before Alair could ask about it, Thea spoke again. "Was that really your dream as a girl...Laya? Just having a husband and children?"

Her expression soft and reflective, Sahana said, "Every woman wishes to love someone, have a family, and die peacefully. That's really all I ever dreamed for. My ideal was my sister. I want to be as strong and as perfect as she was. But my ambition-"

"Damn it all, Alair, are you in here?"

With as much delicacy as a Mammoth in a glass house, Lune barged into Thea's quarters. Alair made a wry expression, but before she could say anything, Thea stood up and marched right into her brother's path as the pneumatic door closed behind him.

"What in Laya's name do you think you're _doing_, Lune?"

Lune's expression became confused. "What I'm doing? I'm-"

"You're in my quarters! Without asking!"

"But-"

"There are rules, Lune! Royal protocol! I am the Princess of Shusoran, not a mistress! If you want entry to my quarters, you ask first! _Ask_! _Then _I will decide if I want to let you in! And if I _don't_ give you permission, you respect that and leave! And you certainly _don't _ask for another woman in my room!"

Her tiny frame worth about a third of Lune's muscular bulk, Thea stood in front of the confused Lune, her arms crossed under her breasts as she yelled up at him. The picture was enough to make Alair crow with laughter. "You haven't been having much luck with your fights with women lately, have you, big brother?"

Lune scowled in her direction. Then he saw Sahana. A glance at the golden-haired girl made Alair correct herself. The person Lune saw was Laya in all her power, a woman who issued commands and expected to be obeyed. Lune paled.

"I am sorry, Thea," he managed, his voice a bit strained. "I did not wish to upset you. I just didn't think."

Thea glared up at him. "Go outside and try again."

Looking a little chastised, Lune withdrew. The intercom hummed as its accompanying light blinked, but Thea did not go to it immediately. It seemed like the princess was counting.

"Trying to housebreak him?" Alair asked.

A frown appeared on that pretty face. "In a manner of speaking, yes."

"Good luck," Sahana said.

"Thank you, I do believe I need it," Thea said. Her countdown completed, she gracefully walked over to the intercom and pressed the speak button. "Yes?"

"Can I come in?"

There was an extended pause as Thea made him wait. At length, Thea said, "You may enter, my lord."

The door whirred open. Thea crossed her arms as Lune entered. They stared each other for a few seconds before Lune leaned down and kissed Thea's cheek. Several more tense seconds passed before Thea finally relented and smiled. "Much better. What was it that you wanted to talk to Alair about?"

Momentarily relieved, Lune turned to Alair, his expression once again strained. "Those Elysian idiots want you to marry the Orakian brat."

"What?"

Alair and Sahana asked the question in unison. They shared a surprised look before they jointly turned their gazes on Lune.

"What do you mean, they want me to marry...Nial? What is going on?"

Lune paced up and down, his displeasure obvious. "Those idiots don't think I'll keep my word. They want you to marry Nial as proof of it."

Ever since he had accepted Sahana..._Laya_ as his overlord, Lune had been negotiating to end the war. Ryan negotiated on behalf of his rebels, Nial for Landen and Satera, and the King of Divisia had been summoned to represent his own domain. Glad not to be involved, Alair was aware that things were progressing as smoothly as could be expected, given the personalities involved.

Not that she was surprised they had chosen to negotiate personally. This was only the second time peace had been made between Layans and Orakians. While it might have been better for all sides if negotiators had been used, intermediaries took too long and had room to distort the matter out of recognition.

"I think it's reasonable."

All eyes turned to Thea. The Shusorani princess looked puzzled at the attention. "Was it something I said?"

"How is it reasonable to force Alair to marry that Orakian barbarian?" Lune demanded.

"It's an arranged marriage. It's the norm for noble blood."

Alair laughed at that. "Unlike you, I'm not a princess, Thea."

"You're wrong, you know," Thea said quite calmly.

"How am I wrong? I'm just a soldier, born on an ice planet, nothing special."

"You're the sister of a legendary hero, Alair. I'm descended from Aina Le Cille, but that's just it - I'm _descended _from her. My lineage ultimately starts with her. You are already the origin of a lineage. No one came before you. Your blood is the noblest the _Alisa III_ has to offer with only a single exception."

Thea glanced at Sahana, but did not elaborate. Instead, she returned to her earlier theme. "When nobles agree to a mutually beneficial exchange, they seal the pact with an arranged marriage. The goal is to create children as a long-term common interest to both factions involved. The sooner the children come, the better, as it makes difficult, if not impossible, to betray the other side.

"This is beyond mutually beneficial; it's the official end of war between Layans and Orakians, blessed by Laya herself and brought about by none other than Lune. It won't end wars between kingdoms... but it will end the constant state of war between our two peoples.

"Something so revolutionary requires a marriage alliance. The accord King Rhys helped create between Cille and Shusoran and Agoe probably failed in the long run because a marriage was not arranged. It was deemed too much by everyone involved, which might be why Agoe gave aid to...to..."

Thea began to breathe raggedly. The annihilation of her homeland and her subsequent imprisonment had left her health severely weakened; part of the reason Alair had brought Thea here had been to keep her company on one of her weak days. It was clear discussing something so close to it had begun a panic attack.

In a rare moment of sensitivity, Lune put an arm over Thea's shoulders and brought her into a gentle embrace and murmured soft reassurance. Alair watched silently as the tiny princess' breathing slowly returned to normal.

"Thank you," Thea said softly before she turned in place, staying within the perceived safety of Lune's arms. "Well, that's what they're thinking, and I don't think there's much room for argument."

"An arranged marriage, huh?" Alair said unhappily. "Whatever happened to freedom and the power of love?"

The skewering look Thea gave her was such a complete surprise that Alair actually took a step back. "_Love_ is to be esteemed highly, but it is supposed to be a _product _of marriage, not a cause. As for freedom, you can refuse, if that is your desire, but do not forget what will fall apart if you reject your duty."

Lune grunted. "Well, at least it makes more sense now that you explained it, Thea." Her brother looked at her, his expression pensive. "I told those idiots I would ask you to see what you thought of it. I made it clear you would be the one to decide it, not me. Don't worry too much about the peace deal. I'm sure I can give them something else just as good in their eyes as this marriage business. Even if you do agree to it, I'm not letting you get dragged to Landen. I don't know how, but I'll make it so he stays here."

Alair sat down and stared at the floor as she thought. She was not really thrilled at the idea of marrying someone she didn't love. He had rescued her from Divisia's dungeon, true, but that didn't come with a "fall in love with rescuer" requirement. Sure, he was good-looking, with a strong jaw and broad shoulders, but looks only went so far.

_Don't forget what will fall apart..._

Thea's words pricked her. They both wanted a world of peace. If her marrying Nial would solidify it... and it wasn't like the Orakian prince was an utter boor, either. She'd have to talk to him more in the coming days to make sure, but for now, it seemed like they weren't incompatible. That was a good first step, but she wasn't going to leap head-first into this without being satisfied in her own mind that such a marriage wouldn't be a disaster.

Still, it rankled her to have something so important handled like this. "Only if he asks me."

Lune frowned in confusion. "What?"

"If I agree to this, and that's a very big _if_, he'll have to ask me to marry him. I'm not in the business of doing these things via third-parties."

The sound of pneumatics filled the room. Alair looked up in surprise. "Sa-...Laya?"

Sahana exited without a word.


	2. Chapter 2

She was, beyond any shadow of a doubt, completely and absolutely lost.

Laya sighed inaudibly as she tried to orient herself. No matter how many centuries passed, it seemed that Dahlia would always thwart her. The innards of the ancient ship were a uniform gunmetal gray, a tangle of identical corridors and intersections. Try though she might, she never knew where her quarters were, since every door looked exactly like the others.

Worse, she could not ask for directions. The mystique of Laya demanded that she walk coolly, confidently, that she appear to know exactly where she was going and exactly what she would do when she arrived. She had lost track of how many times she had imperiously strode past Lune's guards as they did their best to both pay obeisance and keep watch simultaneously, even as she ignored the impulse to ask where her rooms were.

She had inherited the mantle of a great legend she had to preserve in all ways, large and small. Being lost was a small price to pay to protect that dignity. Or so she told herself. At least she had a beacon. The little device would sound when she was by her quarters. Large as Dahlia was, there was only so much space. She'd find her rooms eventually.

That was the theory, at least.

Still, she should probably cherish this feeling, negative though it was. It was likely one of the last things she would feel for centuries. She resolutely walked forward, trying not to think of what waited for her as patiently as the world waited for the sun to rise. The unwanted thoughts came anyway.

Laya had decided to return to cold sleep. As soon as Lune finished the negotiations and all the parties agreed to the terms, she would leave Dahlia and go to Mystoke. She would prepare them once again for her return, however far into the future that was and, within Aridia's secret world, resume the hibernation her sister had placed her in.

As she lacked her sister's power to see through the mist of time, Laya had made a simple plan to accommodate the vagaries of fate: she would create a legend. The seed of it was simple; Laya was asleep in a secret world, and would be reawakened in the world's greatest time of need.

She was fairly confident in the story's potential. Its essence was simple enough that centuries would pass without it getting too distorted in Lune's domains, while the existence of Lune's family line meant the secret of where she slept would not be forgotten. Whatever calamity her sister had foreseen that required Laya would be met by Laya.

Her problem, of course, was that she didn't know _when _the problem would come. Laya was only certain that it was definitely not Lune. That wasn't a slight on the Esper warlord, just fact - brutal though he was, Lune was not the sort of threat that would make her sister throw her into hibernation. The only clue she really had to go off of was that their enemy was "an evil force from times beyond legend." Not the most helpful of hints, but she trusted her sister and her visions.

Everyone knew of her decision, of course. Almost everyone had meekly complied with the will of Laya, except for two very noticeable exceptions. Alair and Nial had objected vociferously, determined to change her mind. They individually argued that the fact that nothing had happened since she had been put to sleep meant that the threat was no more. Laya had been so curt with Alair in their last fight that the only way she could think of to show she held no hard feelings had been to ask her childhood friend to brush her hair.

Her abrupt departure had nothing to do with their previous fight. So far as Laya was concerned, and notwithstanding her near-slip, Alair was the same slightly-older sister figure she had always been. It was a treasure beyond price to have even one person to be Sahana with, let alone two. Once she went to sleep, the number of people in the world who knew the girl and not the title would diminish to none. As disquieting as that thought was, it was not what drove her out.

No, what had upset her was the talk of Alair getting married. It had been all she could bear to ignore the envy she felt for Thea. The green-haired girl had a husband, a child on the way, and whatever physical weaknesses she had, she had a home. In short, she had everything Laya wanted. For Lune to talk about Alair getting married, arranged or not, and... and for Alair to consider it, she who had devoted her ambition to becoming a warrior... Laya already fell short of the unattainable ideal that was her big sister, and now for what she wanted most in life to be seen by her best friend as a burden instead of the wonder it was...

It hurt her. No, more than hurt, it twisted her heart into knots and ripped them straight out of her body. As Laya, she was supposed to abandon those dreams, but had she not been born from a similar dream? Her mother had been Laya and had loved a mere hunter for at least eighteen years, resulting in the birth of her big sister and her. Didn't that mean it was alright? Had not her sister blessed her and asked the Great Goddess to grant her a happy family life? Surely, Laya could be allowed Sahana's wish to love and be loved for herself?

It wasn't fair. Her best friend would have what Laya wanted when Alair did not appreciate it or even desire it. She would be married to Nial, would have his babies, would be with him for the rest of her li—

Laya froze in her tracks as she actually heard what she was thinking. With a start, she realized she was not merely envious, but _jealous_. While most people used the two words interchangeably, her big sister taught her that envy was the desire for something one did not have, whereas jealousy was the fear of losing that something. She was _jealous _of Alair, but...

Did that mean that she... _liked _Nial?

"Laya!"

Her heart beat a staccato rhythm as she looked up from her contemplation and straight at Nial. There were bags under his eyes and his face was tight with exhaustion, but his smile... it was wonderful and just for her. It filled his face with kindness and humor and intelligence, a smile so sincere it uplifted her entire being. Her lips responded to his warmth and broke out into a smile before she could even think about it. When thought caught up, shock diffused across her mind. Before he could say another word, she turned and fled.

It felt like she was halfway across the ship before her mind asked her something it should have asked the moment she ran away. _Why did I do that?_

That disturbed her. _What is wrong with me?_

"You look like a teenager on the verge of her first epiphany."

The familiar tone provoked a hot spike of anger. Laya regally turned to reprimand the presumptuous fool who _dared _speak to her in such a manner. Her voice was cold enough to freeze the eternal fires of the Alisa III's engines. "Know your place."

What appeared to be a young, pretty woman with dark red hair stood at the entrance to the shuttle bay. She wore a brown travel cloak over her crimson leotard and long scarlet boots. Slung diagonally across her torso was a bulging courier pouch. Blue eyes regarded her neutrally. "The resemblance to your sister is striking."

It was pointless to stare down a machine, so Laya dismissed her from her mind without even a glance. She looked out at the shuttle bay, half-aware of the redoubled activity as the Dahlians noticed her presence and redoubled their efforts. If she was here, then it wouldn't be odd for her to use a terminal. She could even make it appear like she was electronically confirming the safe return of Lune's soldiers while she tried to make the device produce a layout of Dahlia. Then she would be able to find a way back to her quarters...

"...well then. If you'll pardon me, Laya, do you know if Nial is back in his quarters?"

Or she could follow the impertinent android back, since Nial's billet was right across from her lodging. "I believe so. The dispatches are important, then?"

"Aren't they all?"

As negotiations dragged on, Mieu had been given the unenviable task of messenger. Nial sent the android on frequent trips to Divisia and Landen to soothe the agitated Orakians. On top of diplomacy, Mieu was obliged to carry letters between the King of Divisia and his subjects, and between Nial and his parents. Laya knew that the majority of the contents in that bag would be for the Divisian King, but...

The combat machine moved to enter the ship. Without hesitation, Laya followed after her. Mieu glanced at her, but said nothing. "What are Nial's parents like?"

"Rhys used to be a hothead, though he's mellowed in his old age," Mieu replied with the candid familiarity of an old retainer. "Don't think he's gone to seed, though; he's still one of the fiercest swordsmen I've ever seen. Not as deadly as Lord Orakio, but I don't think my master would have been ashamed to see his performance. Lena's a sweet little thing, barely reaches up to Nial's navel, but she's very strong. Not physically, though she's very handy with a pair of daggers, but emotionally. They got together under..._unusual_ circumstances, but they enjoy a very strong marriage regardless. They're partners; they reinforce each other's strengths and cover each other's weaknesses. Even with his numerical advantage, I think Lune would not have been able to beat those two."

_A very strong marriage_... Laya suppressed the pang of envy that filled her. "Does Nial take after his mother?"

"Hmm, he inherited her liveliness, I think. His nature is calmer than his father's, certainly, though I wouldn't say he's without a temper. It shows up less often as he gets older, but it was quite bad when he was young."

_He has a temper?_ "What was he like when he was young?"

A fond smile appeared on Mieu's face. "I'd call him a bully hunter."

"A what?"

Mieu shrugged as her smile widened. "A bully hunter. He'd pick fights with the noble children who tormented others. He always reprimanded them for not acting like a true knight. When they thought no one was watching, they would try to get even with him, but Nial is no slouch. Even when he was outnumbered, he fought like he thought a true knight should, honorable and beyond reproach. Lena used to get so upset with him when he came back bruised like that! Rhys was proud of him, though, for always standing his ground. That's the difference between mothers and fathers, of course."

Laya felt a smile tugging at her lips as she pictured the child Nial coming into the presence of his mother, battered, bruised, yet filled with the particular pride of a little boy who was certain he had done the right thing. "So he has wanted to be a true knight since then?"

"Oh yes. He admires his father greatly. That ideal of a true knight was born from there. He's grown a bit, but I am certain that childhood dream still influences him."

_Chivalry, integrity, dedication, and always doing the right thing, these are the essentials of being a true knight. That's my ideal._

"You like him, don't you?"

The unexpected attack caused Laya to miss a step. "_What?_"

Mieu met her look with a single upturned eyebrow. "I have kept watch over Nial since he was a little boy. Ryan did not notice when you relaxed, but I did."

Embarrassment quickly turned into defiance. "What if I do?"

"Nothing. You've already decided to go back to sleep," Mieu said calmly.

They continued on in silence. Laya bit her lip. She had decided to go back to sleep. Nothing truly tied her here. There would be peace after a millennium of war. The threat her sister had foreseen would be met by Laya. Alair would be fine. Nial would be fine. She wasn't necessary right now. The duty she owed her elder sister was more important. She should spread her wings and fly toward that threat with all of her strength.

So why was it that she kept wishing for something different? Why did she keep wishing to see if she could have her dream?

Why did she keep thinking that she should have it with Nial?

It was absurd. It was just a little bubble of happiness, something built by being in close contact with him that would probably fade if she wasn't near him. She admired Nial. He was handsome, he was kind, he was strong, and he was gentle. But how was something permanent supposed to be born from that? She was young. She was too young to know what love was...wasn't she? Regardless, it would be utter foolishness to entrust the future to the whims of feelings.

_May the Great Goddess lead and bring to thee the husband whom thy heart desires. May this be thy gift to her, O Goddess!_

_Live happily ever after, my treasure. I love you._

Twin memories intruded. Her sister's voice as she blessed an innocent child, her sister's voice as a maiden was put into cold sleep while the enemy from times beyond legend attacked. Sahana had been blessed twice over, once by Laya and once by Kalika. Even if they were separated by a thousand years, her sister had promised to protect her. Not even time could hope to stand against the blessings she had been given. Even if it was utter foolishness...

"Mieu, what does Nial like?"

The redheaded android looked at her with a frown. "What does he like? Well, if you're asking about food, he's not too picky an eater. He certainly loves music, but you're going to have to be a bit more specific with that question."

Perfect. "Mieu, I want to ask your help in something."

It was foolish. It was emotional. It was not fitting of a Laya, and she would have to beg forgiveness for it later. But even so, she would pursue these feelings and get an answer.


	3. Chapter 3

"I've lost track of how many days we've been at this," Nial said tiredly.

"Too many," Ryan grunted.

The Layan knight had his feet up on the metal table, his green mantle nowhere in sight, his body as slack as if every bone in his body had been removed. His chin was on his chest, so the words were slightly muffled, but the exhaustion was easily heard. Not that Nial was much better; his body was slumped forward, his arms were crossed on the table, and his head was on his arms.

Nial stared at the grayish-brown walls. Laya had commented that the color was supposed to be soothing. Personally, he found it incredibly boring. "I hate negotiations."

The answering grunt was more eloquent than the most oratorically-gifted villain pleading his innocence before his king could hope to be. It had been hopelessly naive of him to think that negotiating a peace would be a simple matter. The list of things that needed to be gone over seemed to grow every day, ranging from reparations to land grants to border adjustments, and more besides. Every time something was brought up, an... _aggressive_ discussion took place that might or might not be resolved that day.

"At least we finally decided on hierarchy," Nial continued.

"Provisionally."

"I did manage to get you out from directly under Lune, you have to grant me that."

"I get stuck with his sister instead. Great."

"Who is now in charge of Aerone, so you, in theory, get to avoid Lune most of the time. At least you get your family estates back."

"Only because Lune hadn't had the time to give them to someone else."

"Your depression is contagious."

Today's _discussion _had involved vassalage. At least, that was how Nial understood it. In essence, the warlord wanted the Divisian King and Ryan on very short leashes. As far as Lune was concerned, the recent conflicts were their faults, the former for being a weakling, the latter for fostering treasonous rebellion. Lune had wanted them both directly under his thumb; hours of negotiation had managed to create adequate terms the four of them could agree on. Nial made the effort to lift his head off the table. He opened the notebook and examined his notes, just to confirm what they had agreed on.

_The expanded fief of Aerone belongs to Alair Kay Eshyr, titled Exarch, elevated to the military rank of legate, with command of the Dahlian garrison and overlord of the vassals designated. Ryan Ka Shiumu is appointed Prefect of Aerone and knight of honor to Exarch Alair Kay Eshyr. His House's traditional estates are restored to him. The Crown of Gran Direha submits to King Nial Sa Riik. Nial Sa Riik is recognized as Suzerain of Divisia. Tribute will be determined after boundary determination._

There was only one _slight _problem: Nial was not a king.

He understood why the agreement had been framed that way, of course. Lune had insisted that if the Divisian King was not going to be answerable to him, then he would have to be answerable to Nial. Gran Direha had been offended at the indignity of a king bowing before a prince, descendant of Orakio or not. The only way to prevent the complete collapse of the talks had been to offer the suggestion that Nial would be elevated to kingship. It all made sense.

On the surface, at least. There were undercurrents for why things had been arranged thus. He was already mentally composing the letter to his father about that.

Ryan spoke. "Well, suppose I shouldn't bitch too much. You're the one who has to marry her."

A shrug was the only response he gave. Arranged marriages were just a fact of life for them. A union between Layan and Orakian had been raised by the Divisian King as a way to seal the entire agreement, whenever it was finally finished, with the designated surrogates Alair and himself.

Ever since Lune had returned to their meetings with a vaguely affirmative answer, Nial had been spending time with Alair. Supervised by Thea, of all people! Everyone had been certain that all of the Shusorani and Cille had been wiped out, but to find his childhood playmate safe and in good health had been one more shock on a journey filled with them.

Time spent with Alair had proven positive. To his good fortune, she was not any of the following: an Ogress, a shrew, a harridan, a boor or a bore. She had many superlative qualities, like her intelligence, her strength, her toughness, her courage... though it was more than a little unsettling to have her calmly walk up to a Layan war beast and treat it like an oversized Chirper. They got along well. A marriage between them would not founder on incompatibility.

So why was he so uneasy about it?

Why was it that when he thought of blue eyes, he saw two exotic orbs leading to an otherworld?

"I may have said that, but don't take it to heart," Ryan said suddenly.

Nial shook his head as he slowly dragged himself to his feet. "What?"

"I get hunches sometimes. Like when I saw you in the cave and knew you let Alair out. I have a hunch you're not marrying Alair."

"What, are you clairvoyant?"

"Nothing that impressive. Just an old soldier with good hunches. Hungry?"

Nial wrinkled his nose. The food they were provided had grown worse since their arrival. Nial suspected it was a sort of subtle pressure from Lune to push them to agree with him quicker. Ryan seemed indifferent to the slop they were served, but there was a limit to how much bad food Nial could eat in a single day. "Not right now. I plan to take a nap."

"Suit yourself."

As the door automatically slid out of their way, they parted, Ryan headed for the cafeteria, Nial to his room. The sharp smell of harsh chemicals assailed his nose as he walked down the monotonous hallway. Around one grayish-brown corner, he saw the source of the stench: cleaning crews dressed in the one-piece brownish-gray clothing that seemed to be the only form of dress on Dahlia. The only exceptions seemed to be those born in the seven worlds, like Thea.

Reflex kicked in faster than thought as Nial shook his head. _Its name is the Alisa III, after an ancient queen. It's a spaceship to sail across the emptiness between stars._

The seven worlds were created by Orakio, but that wasn't all of it. The seven worlds were a single ship to sail across the stars, without a destination. Or so it seemed to him, but he still hadn't managed to wrap his head around such an idea. It was all so... _immense_.

It didn't help that no one had explained it further for him. The Dahlians were all hostile to him, so his questions were met with blank stares of hostility. Understandable since he was the Orakian who had defeated their undefeated master. He had already heard mutters about ambushing the "strongest Orakian." It took him a little while to realize they were talking about _him_.

Nial turned left at the next intersection, the one that lead to his quarters, deep in thought. The truth of it was that he should have been dead, plain and simple. Lune was a fierce opponent, a warrior who combined weapon mastery with magic. That fight had been the greatest of his life, one that he only managed to win because of Laya.

They had fought as one. There had been virtually no need to speak to each other during that battle. He had been aware of her as she had been of him. But it was only after he had stepped into the way of Lune's attack on Laya, only after he thought about what he had done, that he truly realized what was going on in his heart.

He was in love with Laya.

The woman he loved wasn't Laya the holy woman, Laya the ruler, Laya the sorceress queen. The woman who forced Lune himself to submit was impressive, but it wasn't the real Laya. He paused outside his door and looked at the one directly across from it.

No, the real Laya was the girl who played in the snow with him, the girl who was always at his side, who teased him, the girl who idealized her sister, the girl who did her best with the heavy burden her sister had left behind for her. The real Laya was the girl who sang.

He turned his attention to the little plastic square and its array of letters and numbers and began to put in the code to open the door.

"Nial."

His heart suddenly raced at that familiar voice. He tried to make his movements casual as he turned around.

Would he ever get used to looking at her? Her fine, delicate features were almost too perfect to have been made by nature. Had he been told that she had once been a stature made of gold, alabaster, and roses that had been brought to life, he would have believed it. Her hair was in an appealing braid, though he far preferred it when her long hair was loose and framing her face. The oval perfection of her face had two landmarks to draw the eye. The first was the blood-red ruby that rested on the middle of her forehead; the second was the perfect flower of her lips.

"Nial?"

Laya's concern brought him back to reality. He felt heat boil his cheeks as he hoped he was not blushing. "Y-yes?"

"I know you're tired, but would you like to keep me company?"

"O-of course."

They had not spent much time together in at least a week. Ever since Laya had announced her intention to return to the world under Aridia, Nial had been desperately trying to change her mind. He had summoned every bit of persuasive art he owned in speeches and arguments that would have made the greatest orator jealous.

Unfortunately, the harder he tried to change her mind, the more annoyed she became. The last time they had been in each other's company, they hadn't even talked: Laya had stared past him in stony silence even as he tried to talk to her. She had been avoiding him ever since. If this invitation meant he was forgiven, then he would keep his mouth shut for the moment. He had until the coffin lid came down and put her back to sleep to change her mind. For now, he would simply enjoy her company.

Across the threshold, a gentle aroma caressed him. It was one of those mysteries, how a woman who occupied a room enough imprinted her scent on them. Or perhaps he was just extra-sensitive to Laya's smell? _Blossoms_...

"Is everything going well in your negotiations?" Laya asked.

"Well enough, I suppose," Nial said as pleasure filled him along with her scent.

"Please get comfortable. Lune is giving you a hard time?"

Nial sat in a chair facing her. "Well, not just him. We're all giving each other difficult times. Though Lune is using his unfair advantage as host to the hilt."

A frown marred that perfect face. Nial stomped on the urge to cross the distance and kiss her brow. "What do you mean, Nial?"

"What we're being fed has gone from bad to worse. I'd almost rather eat what his monsters in their kennels are getting."

"Are you sure that's not what you're already eating?" Laya asked with a mischievous smile.

It was Nial's turn to frown. "If that's what he feeds them, it's a wonder they haven't tried to eat him."

Her giggles sounded as pretty as the chiming of bells. "I think they'd have a hard time _stomaching _him."

Silent mirth shook him before he joined Laya in genuine laughter. It saddened him to think that she was so determined to leave behind the joys they shared now for eternal sleep. He hated to ruin such a fragile moment, but...

"I wrote a song recently. Mieu helped me compose it. Would you like to hear it?"

Nial blinked in surprise. To hear Laya's singing... he looked around. "I would love to, but... I don't see any instruments?"

Laya laughed. "You'll have to settle for a recording of the instrumental."

"Recording? Instrumental?" he asked in confusion.

"Never mind, never mind. Just listen until the end, and then tell me what you think."

She rose from her seat, her movements as smooth and beautiful as a leaf dancing in the wind. As she crossed toward a nearby console, Nial was struck with how her outfit enhanced her femininity. Her white boots ended well above the knee, while her pink tunic, cut similarly to the one worn by Lune's archers, ended a few inches above those boots. She wore a diaphanous sheet of fabric that ended above her knees from the front and extended like a cape to just above her ankles in the back. The effortless elegance stole his breath away.

Laya must have activated something, as music slowly filled the room. Somehow, he felt tense as Laya walked toward him, her eyes closed, her voice silent.

Then she began to sing.

_"Everyone calls me a holy woman_

_It's such a great burden, but I do my best to live up to it_

_The weight on my shoulders is not felt within my heart_

_so_ _my feelings have grown wings and soar through the sky_

Fear, sorrow, melancholy, longing, loneliness... Laya's powerful voice washed over him and filled his heart with her emotions. Even as he was mesmerized by the beauty of her voice, Nial understood that the song came from deep within her, from the real Laya. She was telling him something important he had to hear, something that he _had _to understand.

_"Encountering you was all that it took to leave me shaken and to make my wings lose their way_

_I am exposed to the unkind rain, my poor wings are wet, I cannot fly this way_

_Fly away, for another day._

_"Call for me with your voice and surely I will not leave"_

_I have no regrets, except for my secret love_

Startled, Nial tried to speak, but the words froze on his tongue when Laya opened her eyes and looked at him. Those solitary eyes were the gateways to another world, _her _world.

They were the gateways to her soul. She turned her gaze away from him; he felt a curious sense of loss.

_"Tell me that you love me, but for now I ask you, say not another word_

_I must not return to endless dreams_

_"I'm here I'm here,_

_Here's where I am, now I sing for you alone._

_Right here, there's no fear._

Laya's voice had a power beyond any Nial had ever heard before. It was easily stronger than the magic he had seen her use during her journey, but not because it destroyed or healed. Its strength came from the depths of her passion, from the sincerity of her feelings. Her song reached through the barrier of self that separated people and united them through their hearts. Suddenly, she looked into his eyes again.

_"The truth is so simple, so sure. I love you._

_My braid is yours alone to untie. The morning dew is in my hair and all my trust is in your hands_

Once again, she looked away. Suddenly, he thought of something. What if he was mistaken?

_"I was always alone after I met you, since all I wanted was for you to love me_

_I want to be at your side and watch the sun rise together, our dreams in union to create the future_

What if Laya didn't unite all people who heard her voice but...

_"Where are you? Do you love?_

_Fall into the end of the World_

_Beloved, I realize I feel you in my soul_

What if she only united him and her?

_"Give me your hand and pull me away from eternity_

_Help me fly straight toward you."_

Silence filled the room as her song ended. Nial stood and crossed the distance between them. He fell to one knee before her. "I am just a knight. You're a demigoddess. Still, I ask. Stay. Marry me. I love you."

Laya fell to her knees. Her head rested on his shoulder. "Dummy."

Before he could ask why, he found himself lost in the sweetness of her lips.


End file.
